


That Yellow Haired Bastard

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sin City - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Noir, Anal Fingering, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bad Dirty Talk, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Daddy Kink, First Time Blow Jobs, Gellert Grindelwald Being Creepy, Hero Worship, Kidnapping, M/M, Mashup, Minor, Police Officer Original Percival Graves, Queenie is Shellie, credence is a stripper with a heart of gold, frank miller esc violence, guilty and overprotective graves, jason momoa is Marv, mentions of pedophiliac intentions, shushing during sex, sin city - Freeform, sin city crossover, that yellow bastard inspired by
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-10-17 13:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10594809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Ten years later Percy Graves returns to the hive of scum and sin that is Basin County, and his eye is caught by a certain male stripper.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [s-o-l-d-a-t (starsandsnipesforever)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandsnipesforever/gifts).



> Obligatory Sin City AU with Nancy and Hartigan's story but with Credence and Graves haha oops

It was only fitting that Sera had left him for a woman. They had been together and shared a bright shining moment that burned out, fizzled to smoke like a candle in a small breeze. It was why he'd admitted to himself he needed a change of pace, a new leaf to turn over. All of that had happened only a few days after his career ending move. She’d gone off on her own, and he had done the same, neither of them planned to ever meet again.

As he stepped out of the taxi he had hailed from the skeevy motel that he’d chosen on the outside of Basin county, he walked towards Kadie’s, instead of the usual.

He wasn't in the mood for love or regrets, he just wanted to forget the last time he'd been in this rotten town and why. How better else than with a stiff drink and a warm body beneath his own, somewhat skilled at doing what would please him, not just them.

 

God, she managed to follow him like a ghost and he didn't even miss her. If anything should be haunting him it would have been Grindelwald’s last empty threat.

 

The music was pounding into his skull instead of greeting him with a polite hello, though the waitress in front of him smiled at him nicely enough. Her blonde curls looked almost red in the lighting from the stage, right smack in front of the bar, and her voice was sweet like syrup,

“What can I getcha?”

“Whiskey, neat. Wait, no, on the rocks.”

“You got it.”

“When’s the next round of entertainment?”

“Eyes to the stage pilgrim. He’s just about to come out.”

She winked at him, and Percy wasn’t quite sure how she had pegged him so fast, but at least she hadn’t said it too loudly.

Kadie’s was a place that catered to anyone, and everyone. There was slender and curvy and long haired and pixies and redheads and brunettes.

Right now, there was a creature that looked a bit like they had just walked right out of a greek books of mythos, merely missing a toga, or maybe a gold leaf crown, to top the long dark waves that flowed over bare shoulders, and caressed lean lines, down to just a threadbare pair of white trousers that matched their pale skin, the waistband barely hanging onto sharp hipbones.

Once they started to sweat, their pants would be almost see through. Maybe that was the point.

They smiled at the crowd as they started to sway to the music, politely ignoring the whistles thrown their way, and occasionally looking out at individuals to blink and then give an extra shimmy.

Damn.

The waitress dropped back by with his drink, and as he leaned against the very end of the bartop, he drank deeply, not realizing just how long it had been since he’s had a decent bit of liquor.

Percy hasn’t been so easily hypnotized by a stripper in years, and certainly not such an androgynous one. They’re almost  _ too _ pretty. 

There was no doubt that they were definitely a young man; with the way those pants started to cling to a bulge that makes even  _ his  _ mouth water, never mind the rest of the bozos at the bar, with their beady eyes locked to every movement of the strippers entrancing body.

He found himself half tempted to join them, to give in and leer, when a jolt of something like intuition started to shoot down his spine, and his eyes glazed over to the booths packed alongside the back wall. He nearly choked on his second sip as he spotted white blond hair, and a sneer that made his sixth sense scream to life. He set his glass down and walked forward, but there were too many people in his way. Looking away for a moment to murmur apologies as he squeezed by, he finally made it past the crowd, only to find the booth empty.

Fuck.

Did he just imagine that?

Wasn’t that bastard dead anyway?

He was going insane, all from two small sips of liquor.

What would Marv say if he could see Percy now?

God. He hadn’t spoken to or heard that smooth voice in a long time. Perhaps, if all else failed, he could go walk by the man’s last known place of residence, and see if maybe-

All of that thought process came to a screeching halt when there was suddenly an armful of hot, sweaty and spicy smelling brunette in his arms, as a defined jawline pressed into the crook of his neck and shoulder.

“Mister Graves! I can’t believe it’s you! You really came back to see me.”

The icy feeling of dread flared back up inside his gut, and Percy knew, instantly, that he didn’t just see Grindelwald from a booze induced haze of nostalgia.

His hand moved automatically, and he curled his fingers at the back of the strippers neck, carding his hand through long silky waves, as the stripper began to shift away to beam at him, and Percy gritted his teeth instead of answering back with another equally giddy expression,

“We need to get out of here. Right this second.”

Credence, because, of course it was  _ him _ , didn’t protest, but his smile did fall by a fraction, and then he was nodding, prepared to obey at once. Goddamn.

“Okay. I’m done for the night. Let me just go throw some clothing on.”

Percy followed three steps behind, his hand coming up to his belt, finding it empty, remembering oh, he’d left his faithful pistol elsewhere.

Fuck.

Credence emerged, still glowing somehow, after a few moments, clad in a silk leopard print shirt and an equally ridiculously shiny pair of black pants, yet he was fucking gorgeous, and Percy needed to get a fucking grip.

He was led out to a car that looked like it belonged in a metal scrap yard, and when he cocked a brow, skeptical, in Credence’s general direction, he was already walking over to the driver’s side, and tugging open the door.

“What’s wrong?”

“This can’t possibly be reliable transport.”

“She is. She only runs for me. Marv said I had a gift.”

The name stirred Percy’s protective instinct, and he wondered just when his old friend had decided that becoming a stripper was an acceptable career choice for the young boy he’d agreed to take into his care. He was going to be having some strong words with Marv the next time he saw him.

If he lived that long.

 

* * *

 

“By the looks of things, you’re going to have to shoot something. So it’s better if I drive anyway.”

Credence was only mildly embarrassed by the reaction he’d gotten from the man, namely, to be pushed back and held at arm's length, whether due to the sweaty embrace or his near nakedness, he still wasn’t sure.

It had been far from an oft dreamed-about reunion with the handsome detective who’d saved his life nearly a decade ago.

“How about firepower? I left my gun at, uh… I can’t remember.”

Credence nodded at the glove compartment, right above the man’s knees.

“Check in there. It’s loaded, and it works. I’ve taken it to the firing range a couple times, kicks like a mule.” 

He smiled, and started up the car, but he didn’t catch any reply from Graves except for a perfunctory check of the pistol’s slide and the magazine clip. God, he was so different, but still very much the same. 

He had a hint of silver at his temples now, mixing with the rest of his dark hair, and a few extra lines around his mouth. When he squinted into the night, there were some crows feet at the corners of his eyes. But every time he looked at Credence, his heart still skipped a beat.

As he pulled out of the parking lot belonging to Kadie’s, he couldn’t help thinking back to that night, and how scared he’d been, until Detective Graves had shown up, kicked down the door, and scooped him up and carried him away.

* * *

A stray bullet from the yellow haired man had caught Graves on his shoulder and he’d stumbled, but never once dropped Credence, even though it couldn’t have been easy to hold onto him with blood streaming down his side.

He could remember crying, a lot, expecting that even though he’d been rescued, somehow he wouldn’t ever be safe, not really.

But then Graves had told him as soon as he heard the sirens, he would know. Backup was coming, and once they arrived, Grindelwald couldn’t hurt him anymore.

The detective had collapsed when he reached the end of the pier, and Credence had tried to help, ripped the bottom of his shirt off to press into the ever bleeding wound in the man’s arm, but he’d said it was okay, the detective would be alright as long as he didn’t overexert himself.

More police had swarmed the area, along with emergency workers, and they’d pried Credence off of the detective, insisting that he needed to be checked on, to be bandaged up as well, and could they call anyone for him?

“No, I don’t have any family.”

It was technically true. He’d been staying with a foster family since he was a toddler, but they didn’t care, they hadn’t even come looking for him when he hadn’t come back from school, so they didn’t deserve to know he was fine.

He had almost become another  _ ‘lost boy _ ,’ as the papers called them, the missing children of Basin County. Thanks to Detective Graves, he hadn’t.

The second he was left alone, he snuck out of his hospital room and went in search of the detective, finding him in a room at the end of a hallway, handcuffed to his bed by his uninjured arm and both of his ankles.

“What’s going to happen to you?”

Mister Graves looked exhausted, but he had smiled at Credence, even though he was probably in considerable pain,

“I’ve got a friend who you can stay with. He’ll be able to protect you.”

Credence had pouted, and his throat had hurt as he kept his tears at bay, wanting to be strong for the man,

“But I want to stay with you.”

“You can’t. They’re going to try and charge me with manslaughter. Even though I was only doing my job. It’s the system. They can’t be trusted to do anything right. Marv will look out for you. Won’t you?”

Credence had turned to see one of the shadows in the room shift and move closer, and he gasped, shrinking into the detective’s side, though the man couldn’t touch him, or reach out and comfort him, he felt safer there. Then the shadow knelt down, becoming smaller in an instant, holding up a hand,

“Hi there. Credence, right? If you want to come with me, we need to go now. They’ll have noticed you aren’t in your bed. They’ll be looking for you.”

Credence bit his lip, and looked from the man with long brown hair, arms dark with tattoos, and a scarred eyebrow, over to the nice detective, who seemed to be on the verge of passing out.

“Okay. If Mister Graves says you’re a good person.”

The detective nodded, very slowly, but definite.

“I’d trust him with my life, Credence.”

“You’ll be safe with me. Just as much as you were with ol’ Percy.”

The man kept his hand out, and Credence finally reached over to take it, and let himself be picked up again, like he weighed nothing. Marv, the hulk of a man, paused a moment to pick up another thing that had looked like a shadow, only to sweep it onto one arm, and drape it over Credence’s slight form, hiding him from view.

Just before his vision of the detective was blocked, he whispered a fervent goodbye, 

“I love you Mister Graves.”   
Marv had somehow climbed outside and down the building, before taking off into the night, with Credence clinging to his chest.

In his years spent growing up with the man, he learned that though Marv had a fearsome and dangerous exterior, deep down, he was a kind hearted and gentle man. He only picked up his prized gun, Gladys, if there was trouble that needed taking care of.

He told Credence about how both he and detective Graves had served in the same branch of the military, before returning home to the United States and going their separate ways in work and life. He told Credence that when he became old enough, if he wanted to go to school or go into the army himself, Marv would support either decision he made.

The only problem with school was the cost. Credence had no money of his own, and he didn’t know how he could possibly get work in Basin county without being recognized at once as the boy from the news reports, who was still missing, even after a supposed rescue.

So he and Marv changed locations, going north, and staying for almost five years in Seattle, before he deemed it safe enough for them to return to Nevada, and then slowly work their way back towards Basin county.

In all that time, Credence had never forgotten his savior, his hero, and constantly worried for him. There had been news reports of a rogue cop going against the law, and their was a warrant for his arrest. It was never fulfilled, and Marv told him pointedly the day he turned sixteen, that there was  _ no fucking way they’d ever catch him. _

Marv had always done his best to temper his language around Credence while he’d been growing up, not wishing to overly influence him into becoming just like the man. He hadn’t minded. The man had taught him to shoot with Gladys, and insisted that he go to the first pawn shop he saw to get his own gun, with his first paycheck from his job, to ensure he’d have his own protection, just in case Marv wasn’t around to be of help.

Then Credence was saving up for a car, which ended up being a bucket of bolts that Marv rolled his eyes at and told him that he wouldn’t be doing anything for if it broke down. So next there was a walk to the library, to collect the manuals he’d need to tune up the car.

Credence was very proud of his work, and he said as much to Marv, who still shook his head.

“If that thing doesn’t kill you, I’ll be amazed.”

For his eighteenth birthday, Marv gave him a black leather coat, much like his own, and Credence had gaped at it for a good few moments, before insisting he couldn’t possibly accept it.

“Yeah, you can. Winters in Basin county get really harsh. I’m not having you catch frostbite on my watch.”

It was a bit big on him, so he usually kept it folded up in the trunk of his car, for emergencies, while he wore something lighter most of the time. When he’d sprung the question of what he could do to earn more money the quickest, besides gambling of course, Marv had given him a funny look, lit up a cigar, and then exhaled slowly, looking thoughtful.

“How do you feel about being naked in front of strangers?”

Credence had been speechless at first, before turning as bright red as the rose tattoo Marv had on his left bicep.

“I don’t know… why would anyone want to look at me?”

Marv cocked his scarred brow and then chuckled,

“You must not look in a mirror very often kid.”

Credence had patted his ponytail, and then shrugged,

“Not really no. Since I can’t grow a beard, there’s no need.”

Marv snorted,

“Not everyone can be me. No, look, I have a new connection at this bar downtown. You might be able to get an audition. They hire both guys and girls for that sort of work. You could make a lot of money.”

Credence licked his lips, and then noticed how Marv’s gaze had slid away at the word  _ ‘connection.’ _ That had to mean something more personal than just a friend. Marv didn’t have lots of friends.

“You’d be okay with me doing that?”

“It’s your body. No one can touch you. You’ll just be looking pretty for a bunch of drunks. I can come with you if you want. Make sure the joint is on the up and up. Queenie seems to like it.”

Credence found himself nodding,

“Yes. I’d prefer that.”   
Marv had clapped a massive hand on his shoulder and grinned,

“You got it kid. I’m sure you’ll do great. Maybe take your hair down for when you audition, it looks better that way.”

* * *

 

A month later, he was working full time, and had almost enough money saved for his first semester at the nearest starter college. Marv only came by once a week, and mainly talked to his  _ connection _ , Queenie, a pretty strawberry blonde with a smile that could calm down even the crankiest patron.

So that was how he’d found himself running over to Detective Graves’ the second he recognized him in Kadie’s, and now they were on the road, heading god knew where, with the man at his side totally unaware just how glad he was to see him. He opened his mouth, and pure nonsense came out.

“I’ve missed you so much. I’ve lain awake nights thinking of you. I tried to go on dates with girls, and even thought I liked one or two of them. But it’s always been  _ you _ .”

“What are you talking about?”

Credence frowned over at the man, and realized how jumbled his thoughts were, but before he could even try to clarify, there was a loud snap, like an icicle breaking off a high roof, and crashing to the ground.

He faced the road again and saw new spider cracks in the windshield, and his breath caught in his throat. It was a bullet hole.

“Get down!”

* * *

Firefights had always been Percy’s least favorite part about being a cop, and even when he was promoted to detective, he had still run into his fair share in Basin County. The day the call came in, strangled and garbled about a missing person, or rather, child, he was almost relieved. It would be a small time criminal, and there wouldn’t be a mob waiting for him. So he thought.

When he and Abernathy piled into a squad car and took off, he was ignoring the younger man’s rambling as best he could, until he heard something along the lines of,  _ ‘waiting for backup before rushing into a kidnapping gang ring.’ _

“Yeah sure, let’s sit back and wait for this to _ become _ a crime scene. This is the fifth type of call we’ve had this summer. Don’t pretend it’s anything less than a serial case.”

The station might have thought they had him fooled, but Percy could draw lines, and make connections between similar events. He just hoped the intel had been right. The docks were not a great locale to sneak up on, so he parked a couple blocks away. 

“Stay here, and shut up. Call for backup if I’m not back in twenty.”

He eyed Abernathy, leaving no room for argument, but only received an eyeroll in reply. That usually meant _ ‘whatever.’  _

Where did these upstart rookies learn that kind of disrespect anyway? Unless somehow Marv had told everyone on the force to do it just to annoy him. He wouldn’t put it past his old friend.

Time to get serious. 

He drew his pistol a block out from the warehouse, which already gave him the shivers from its peeling and rusted exterior, and melted into the side, creeping up on the two loudly chattering goons standing outside. If this was the kind of muscle the kidnappers had hired, they needed a lesson in stealth. Percy was happy to oblige, with a sharp right cut to the taller one’s jaw, and a sucker punch to the shorter one.

They crumpled to the ground and the silence they left behind was deafening. It was broken by another conversation, slightly muffled, that was coming from the door right in front of him. He edged closer, and pressed an ear to the metal.

“You’ve been very good Credence. Very quiet. Mister Grindelwald doesn’t like boys who cry and beg for their mommies. If you’re this good when he gets here, you’ll even get a piece of candy when he’s done.”

“I just want to go home.”

“You don’t have a home. Don’t lie to me, sweet thing.”

An oily voice broke in over the higher pitch of the child, and Percy found his teeth grinding together. He should have known.

Grindelwald was a piece of slime that kept getting off the hook with the law thanks to his familial connections with the Shaw’s. They were the unspoken ruling crime family with their fists around the neck of Basin County, with a up and coming Senator, a newspaper in their control, and even an arm of control inside the clergy.

It was sickening really, that they were stooping so low, when the city deserved better than a family with a monopoly on all things wicked.

He couldn’t take much more of the bullshit coming out of the creep’s mouth, so he moved back to get a better angle on the door, before kicking the handle, sending it flying open and slamming right into the side of the goon who’d been waiting behind it.

He elbowed the other one, and leveled his pistol on Grindelwald, who was kneeling in front of the child currently tied to a chair in the center of the room.

“Get on your feet scum, and step away from the child.”

The dirty blond haired bastard smirked, and dropped his hand from where it had been petting the child’s face.

Shadows didn’t hide anything from Percy’s trained night eyes, and he shot the two other men where they were hiding without even looking.

Grindewald’s confident expression wilted somewhat, and he drew his own gun, getting off a shot, a lucky one, catching Percy in the side of his non-dominant arm, making him miss where he’d aimed at the bastards kneecap, instead hitting his upper thigh.

Grindelwald shrieked out a curse, before turning and limping away at a surprisingly fast pace.

There wasn’t really time to linger and let him escape, but the boy was now crying, and the bitter smell of urine mingled with the dry tang of mold and rust, diverting Percy’s attention, as he drew his pocket knife, severing the ropes in a quick move.

The boy’s pale skin was reddened from the harsh bindings, and he trembled as Percy scooped him into his arms, not caring about his frightened and soiled condition.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

“Who are you?”

The boy hiccuped on a sob, as Percy took off at a brisk clip, wincing only slightly as the boy’s foot accidentally grazed his wounded arm, trying to hold on with his arms about his neck.

“I’m a detective. Basin City PD, nice to meet you. Credence right?”

The full name in the report had been a strangely biblical and outdated sort for such a young boy, but the only thing Percy had zeroed in on was his age. By far the youngest victim Grindelwald had tried to add to his collection. He was barely eight fucking years old.

“You’re a policeman?”

“Yes.”

He was gritting his teeth now, keeping his weapon drawn, and shifting the boy to rest on his opposite hip, carefully wrapping his still bleeding arm around him. God, the boy was going to be soaked in disgusting bodily fluids at this rate.

Still, better than the alternative, slashed to ribbons, covered in semen and rotting in a gutter, like the other  _ lost boys _ had been found.

There was a consistent trail of blood leading out to the docks to match his own, and Percy cocked his pistol, striding out to where he could see Grindelwald had finally collapsed, clutching a hand tightly around his rapidly bleeding leg.

“You can’t do this. You won’t get away with it. You’ve fucked with the wrong family.”

“I’m not worried. I’ve got the biggest and best piece of evidence right here. A smoking gun, as it were.”

Percy cracked a smile, and Grindelwald looked almost feral, eyes locked onto the boy.

“You think you’re gonna win? You’re nothing. You’re just a piece of shit cop. They’ll destroy you for this.”

The boy buried his face into Percy’s collar, and he could feel the boy’s tears dampening the fabric and wetting his skin.

“I think you know that I won’t be bothering to wait for a court case. There’s no judge in the state who’ll convict you.”

A glimmer of fear was shining in the blond’s eyes, and he lifted a shaky hand, gripped tight around his gun, but Percy was faster.

He shot the creep right between his eyes, and staggered away, finally succumbing to pain from his arm, and the soothing sound of the sirens that meant Abernathy had done one good thing in his life crept into his senses.

“Mister Detective… are you okay?”

A small hand was patting his cheek, and he smiled, forcing his eyes open to find the little boy watching him with dark eyes wide with concern and glistening with tears.

“Yes. Hear that? It means backup is on the way. Just a few more seconds, and you’ll be safe.”

The boy’s bottom lip wobbled, and wetness streaked down his cheeks again, tracing the path of old tears.

“But I am safe. Thanks to you.”

Percy nodded, using his good arm to brace a hand on the boy’s shoulder, squeezing slightly,

“Sure kid.”

He didn’t feel very good. He didn’t know how much blood he’d lost, but going off of how much he’d gotten on the boy’s shirt, which had been patterned with formerly blue and white stripes, but now was all red, it was probably a lot. It was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open. Dimly he noticed that the boy had sat down next to him, curled up against his side, urged his good arm to wrap around him, and his cheek was pressed into Percy’s chest, right over his heart.

If he didn’t make it, it would be okay.

He’d had a fairly good life, even though he hadn’t been able to give Sera the children she wanted, or really live up to her family’s expectations of a good husband. 

But he had tried. 

She would mourn him for a proper six months, then probably move on.

One man dies so another can grow up and live a full life too.

Fair trade.

* * *

Former Detective Graves had to be pushing forty, Credence guessed, but he still snapped into action like it was nothing, practically hanging out of the car, aiming carefully and firing back at whoever was chasing them. His heartbeat was thundering in his ears, and he kept sneaking glances at the former detective, even though he should have been watching the road. Eventually the man said as much, with a heated sort of gaze that locked briefly on his own,

“Eyes on the road Credence! Keep her steady!”

“Right, sorry.”

After a few more tense miles of driving, the man returned to his seat, apparently out of bullets, and he almost barked at Credence to stop the car.

“I need to make sure I got him. Stop the car Credence!”

He slammed on the brakes and saw Mister Graves bracing himself on the dash, and he stammered out an apology.

“Sorry, I guess I just got a little rattled.”

The man looked over at him, and a half smile looked as if it wanted to quirk his lips,

“It’s okay Credence, you did great. Now, wait here while I confirm the kill.”

Before the man could even reach over to unlatch the door, Credence’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist,

“Wait. No. Let me stay close. Nothing can hurt me if I’m with you. Please, let me stay close.”

He didn’t even realize his voice had broken until he saw the man’s frown dissolve, and he licked his lips, before nodding.

“Okay. Come on then.”

There was a light snow falling, and Credence knew he could have stopped to snag Marv’s gifted coat, but he moved over to Mister Graves’ side instead, pretending that he wasn’t aching to grab the man’s hand, or slip into his arms.

Credence only shivered a little, but when the man moved away, crouching down to touch something on the ground, he rubbed his hands together, and held them to his mouth, providing himself a semblance of warmth.

“Well, if he made it, he’s hurt bad. There’s a lot of blood here. No sign of a body. That’s very strange.”

The former detective got back to his feet and came over to Credence, eyeing him, and noticing how he was unsuccessfully hiding how cold he was, and he reached out before he could seemingly think better of it, bracing an arm around him to hug him close.

“Do you mind dropping me at a motel before you head back to Marv’s?”

Mister Graves was smiling, and Credence felt warmth slide down his spine that had nothing to do with the platonic sort of hug he was being given.

“Sure.” He breathed.

Credence had no intention at all of abandoning the man to go home, not when he’d just found him again after so long.

“Fuck, sorry, I guess I stepped in something.”

Credence frowned over at the man as he started the car up again,

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it smells like death in here. Blood and gasoline.”

Credence shrugged,

“The air conditioning filter needs to be changed, it’s probably just that.”

The rest of the car ride was silent, though Credence was bursting with the need to tell Mister Graves how he felt, if he could find a better way to articulate it. Instead, he didn’t drive off while he watched the man get out of the car, and walk towards a room with a peeling set of numbers forming a  _ ‘30.’ _

Credence parked his car, and then quickly followed Mister Graves, ignoring the protests of the late hour, and how it wasn’t a good idea, pushing the door closed, and then going over to where the man had taken a seat on the couch.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Can’t this wait for a decent time, and place? A seedy motel room is the last place you should be, much less with me. I’m just... trouble.”

Credence smiled, and shifted closer, noticing how Mister Graves’ eyes dropped to take in his exposed collarbone, just as he’d intended by not completely buttoning the shirt up.

“Maybe so, but I  _ love _ you. Please don’t tell me you don’t feel anything for me. I saw the way you looked at me, while I was dancing.”

He snaked a hand over the man’s chest, palm flattening over his quickening heartbeat, confirming his suspicions.

“Credence, you’re just a kid. You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re lovely, but-”

“No. No  _ buts _ . I’m  _ not _ just a kid anymore. I know what I want.”

Credence surged forward, to press his lips against the former detectives’, and he felt the man yielding to him, for a second that seemed to last forever, until the hand tangling in his hair at the nape of his neck was gently urging him away, pulling him back, giving them both a chance to draw breath.

“This can’t happen. There’s wrong, and there’s wrong, then there’s this. For god’s sake Credence, I’m more than twice your age. I could be your father.”

Far from being a deterrent, that merely spurred Credence on. After all, the only family he had now was Marv, and he was more like a gruff sort of uncle than a proper father figure.

“That’s okay. If you want me to call you  _ Daddy _ , just say so.”

He couldn’t help a smirk, and he saw how Mister Graves’ eyes darkened a moment later. He dragged his hand lower, daringly sliding it past the man’s waistband, and almost groaned at the feel of the man’s hardening cock under his palm.

“Fuck. Don’t talk like that.”

Fingers like steel girders wrapped around his wrist and yanked his hand off the man’s groin, making Credence pout in reply.

“Please. I just want to show you how grateful I am.”

It wasn’t all he felt, not by half, but he couldn’t help himself, not when he had the strong detective of his dreams finally in front him, half under him, and he could see the exact instant when the man caved in to his own desires.

His eyes flickered back down to Credence’s lips, so he licked them again, watching how Mister Graves’ throat bobbed when he swallowed.

“God. You’re so beautiful. What did I do to deserve you?”

The hand on his neck pulled him in again, and any smart remark he might have replied with died on his tongue, as the man kissed him with a ferocity that matched his own burning need.

He crawled properly onto the man’s lap, and ground his hips down against Mister Graves’ cock, parting his lips to let out a moan, and the kiss deepened the second he felt the man’s tongue press into his mouth.

“Fuck.”

The man’s hands ran down his back, and braced over his hips only a moment, before sliding back around to palm over his ass, and Credence whimpered at the feeling.

“Please,  _ please _ let me touch you.”

Mister Graves broke the kiss to put his mouth against Credence’s neck, whispering his assent, so that he could finally,  _ finally, _ return his hands to the man’s waistband, and below, fumbling at the button and zip, undoing the man’s jeans to slip a hand into his boxers, and wrap his fingers around the thick hardness he’d been dreaming of.

“Mister Graves, you’re so big.”

He said it with a lilt to his tone, but when the man’s teeth worried his skin, and he bucked against him unconsciously, he almost missed the reply.

“Don’t tease an old man.”   
Credence almost shushed him, for talking so bad about himself, but instead, decided to do so with another kiss, before properly stroking over his cock, and tearing another groan from the man’s lips, leaning his forehead against Mister Graves’, feeling his heart pounding just as urgently.

“Can I put you in my mouth?”

Stammering was something he never imagined the man would do, but that was how he responded, and with a begging tone.

“Please.... Credence, don’t expect too much, it’s been a long time.”

“Same here, it’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Credence smiled, before shifting down the man’s body, kneeling in front of where he lounged against the couch, and leaned in, putting his lips to the slick head of the man’s cock. After a few moments of slow teasing, he then took Mister Graves’ cock deeper into his mouth, reverent in his long awaited worship.

With one hand braced on the man’s jean clad thigh, and the other wrapped at the base of his cock, Credence could feel how he was quickly getting close, even without the catch in his breathing.

“Credence…”

He chanced a look up at the man, and the sight was enough to make him fully hard, from the semi he thought he’d been sporting since the first moment he saw Mister Graves walking around Kadie’s.

The hand that had been firm but gentle with him earlier was now carding through his hair, fingertips caressing his scalp, as he dipped back down, urging and asking without words for the man to give in, to let himself finish.

A curse escaped Mister Graves’ lips, mingled with his name, and Credence wished he could smile, as he felt hot jets of come hit the back of his throat, he kept swallowing around the man’s length until it began to soften, and he pulled away slowly, wiping his mouth off over the back of his hand.

“How was that?”

“Come here.”

That wasn’t an answer, exactly, but when Mister Graves tugged him up for a kiss, and a tight embrace, he went.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> revamped the entire thing and edited.

“Take your pants off, please.”

“Gladly.”

Credence was so used to doing such a thing for an audience, it almost felt strange not throwing in a hip pop as he pushed the fabric down his thighs, but he caught a smile from the man as he threw both items over the furthest couch arm, before settling back down on his lap.

Mister Graves seemed to appreciate his nakedness now.

“I don’t have any, uh, stuff.”

Credence licked his lips,

“That’s okay.”

He plucked one of Mister Graves’ hands off his waist, and pulled it to his mouth, sucking slowly and wetly around two of the digits, eyeing his face the whole time, before letting them slip out, smiling and then guiding the man’s hand back to the base of his spine, and lower, nudging the slick fingers to rub against his hole.

“Fuck. You want  _ this _ ?”

“Yes.”

He leaned in to kiss the man as he felt the steady press of one finger inside, as Mister Graves’ other hand reached down to grasp a loose hold around his aching cock.

“It’s okay. You won’t break me, I’m not made of glass.” he whispered against Mister Graves’ lips, wondering if he should chance it, before adding, “Touch me  _ Daddy _ . Harder.”

The answering move was perfect, as the man worried another love bite into his neck, the hand on his cock tightened, and he started to thrust his finger back and forth, deeper each time.

Credence hadn’t done anything like this in a long time, not since he started experimenting with himself in bed, scared half to death and aroused beyond his wildest dreams, thinking Marv would walk in any second and threaten to kick him out for such actions. 

No such thing ever happened, and he’d always come and shivered with delight for a good moment afterwards, his orgasm lasting longer and feeling better than just from jerking off.

“You’re gorgeous, fucking yourself on my hand like this. Are you going to come for me?”

The man’s voice vibrated into his skin, and Credence couldn’t form words at the moment so he just nodded, a sort of desperate whine leaving his throat, against his will, as Mister Graves rubbed a thumb over the weeping head of his cock, almost making him jerk even closer.

“Go on baby. I’ve got you.”

Credence pitched forward, so that he could rest his forehead on the man’s broad shoulder, thrusting his hips frantically as he chased the feeling, fucking into the man’s calloused palm, while Mister Graves’ other hand with two fingers inside him pushed forward, deeper, grazing right over the spot that had him seeing stars.

His jaw slackened, and he was panting into Mister Graves’ neck, barely aware he’d made a mess of the man’s shirt as well as his hand, but that was easily remedied, as he watched, dazedly, the man reached up to lick off his fingers, cleaning away his come like it was a spilled drink.

“Guess I need a shower now, huh?”

Mister Graves was smiling gently, and clearly teasing, but Credence could feel his cheeks heating, “I hope you have more than one shirt…”

“Oh yes. Don’t worry. You should get some rest hmm? So you can drive home tomorrow.”

Credence looked up, surprised,

“You’d let me stay the night?”

Mister Graves frowned a moment, before nodding,

“Of course. I’m not going to kick you out. Not when there’s a maniac running around.”

“Okay.”

Maybe it was unnecessary, but Credence didn’t protest as Mister Graves got to his feet, a bit unsteadily, thanks to his recent orgasm, and carried him over to the bedroom, placing him onto the sheets with minimal effort, before then tucking a light blanket over him, leaving him with a quick kiss to his forehead.

“Be right back.”

* * *

Percy felt his tense back muscles starting to relax the second he stepped into the hot spray of the shower, and he turned to let it pound against his forehead, as water ran down his face, filling his ears, muffling his senses for a moment, before he tilted his head and let the usual sound of the cheap plumbing resume. There was a cough, and the bathroom door squeaked a bit as it opened. He smiled and shook his head,

“You should be resting. But if you want to join me, there’s plenty of room.”

He reached over to open the curtain, and wasn’t met with the sight of his reacquired charge, but instead a mismatched pair of blue and brown eyes, and white blonde hair spiked into a mohawk,

“Nah. I’m good, old man, but thanks.”

The right hook took him by surprise, only because he got caught staring at the hideous scar bisecting the man’s face.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, surprise. It’s me.”

“I would recognize that ugly mug anywhere Grindelwald. Don’t you worry.”

“What, you gonna kill me again? Hah. Good job. I’ve been after your pal and your boy for months. Followed a trail from Washington state, till it grew cold around california. Thanks to you, I’m gonna be well rewarded for my patience.”

Percy gritted his teeth, but didn’t try anything stupid, not when he caught sight of Credence held between two goons, one pressing an enormous needle against his neck, right next to a forming bruise on his skin, from one of his biting kisses.

“Looks like you’ve had some fun with my boy toy already. That’s quite rude of you. Guys, make sure you take off the ropes from his hands and ankles once he’s  _ ‘hung himself’  _ got it? You idiots better not fuck this up for me.”

Percy eyed the door, and there were two more thugs, even broader and taller than the one’s sandwiching Credence, and he gritted his teeth.

“So you’re gonna fake my suicide for your revenge? Is that it?”

Grindelwald smirked, and walked away to Credence’s side, reaching up to put a hand to stroke his cheek, but the strength of the boy’s flinching away made Percy’s heart soar.

Whatever they’d injected him with, he was still able to fight back.

For the moment at least.

“Not quite. First you, then pretty little Credence, well, not so  _ little  _ anymore, shame. Bit old for my taste really. I’m sure we’ll have some fun though, not to worry. Once I’m finished with him, I’m gonna go blow up your big bad wolf friend… Marv’s house. Sounds like a blast. Right guys?”

He turned to his men, as if prompting them with a cue card, they laughed in unison, while Percy felt his stomach threaten to turn over.

Marv wasn’t stupid though, he wouldn’t leave himself defenseless, there was no way he’d let himself be trapped in his house, or not take potshots at anyone setting a toe on his property.

Why would Grindelwald even care about him? 

What had he ever done to him?

“You won’t get away with this.”

The blond turned back to him, mismatched eyes piercing right through him,

“I think I will. Didn’t you know? Henry’s running for President this year. I’m going to be Republican royalty before long. Untouchable. That’s me.”

Pain sung through him, and Percy realized the closest goon to him had stabbed him in the side with a taser, forcing him to collapse to his knees, as the water still clinging to his skin helped the electricity disperse over his body faster than normal.

He couldn’t even find the strength to speak as he watched Credence being dragged away, eyes wide with terror, and a large hand clasped over his mouth to muffle his shouts for help.

The ropes being wrapped around his wrists and ankles were scratchy and tied tight, but they felt like nothing to him, not while there was a breath left in him would he care about himself, not when Credence was in danger. 

And he was in very real danger.

If Grindelwald had the power to come back from the edge of death, to stalk him and Credence for  _ years _ , merely out of some horribly obsessive grudge, there was no outcome where he didn’t kill the boy.

Marv could hold his own against an army, and Percy liked to think he could too, if he had the necessary resources, but the delicate and frightened child that had grown into a kind and beautiful young man would have no chance.

The men lifted him onto the rickety coffee table, forcing a crude noose around his neck, no matter how much he tried to squirm and writhe away, they were helped along, keeping him placid with another dose of the taser when they let go of him, and he tried to aim a knee at the closest face.

“Not much you don’t detective. Tell the big man in the sky, Grindelwald says hello.”

He barely had time to draw in a deep breath, and keep his neck stiff as he felt the table shoved out from under his feet.

He didn’t try not to struggle, as it would be expected, and there were a tense few seconds when Percy thought they weren’t about to leave the room, to be stupid, and have a victory cigarette, until they did, filing out and chuckling and talking in disgusting detail about what they hoped Grindelwald would let them do for their reward, planning to be sent into Old Town with plenty of money in their pockets to pass off to the girls.

Precious seconds ticked by, and Percy wasn’t sure if the reason he could no longer hear anything but muffled conversation was because they’d closed the door behind themselves or because he was getting light headed. Either way, it was too late to keep fucking around, so he started to kick, and moved closer to the window with every swing. 

The ceiling fan gave out before he got enough momentum to break the window and he fell to the floor with a thud, and a heaving of his final breath. Luckily during the fall, the rope around his neck had loosened enough, and he could inhale normally, although his muscles were screaming in protest. His knife wasn’t far, in his pants, on the end of the bed. Demeaning as it was to shuffle on the floor, he didn’t have to do much else, but snag the end of his pants with his teeth, and jerk quickly to bring them onto the floor with him. His knife was heavy in the back pocket, and he nearly sighed in relief at the feel of it against his palm. 

He severed the ropes binding his wrists first, before freeing his ankles, and then almost jumped to his feet to pull on his pants and shirt, and step into his shoes, barefoot because, fuck socks, he had asses to kick.

The first two he took by surprise, slashing one in the throat and the other in the side before making the killing blow, and the others drew guns, but he already had two human shields to hide behind, so it really was almost too easy.

Fueled by righteous fury, he barely noticed what he was driving, much less the small arsenal he had lying next to him in the passenger seat. Six different guns packed inside a fucking lamborghini. 

How pretentious.

Everyone knew where the Shaw family mansion was, and to avoid it. But lesser known was the farmhouse on the outskirts of town, a bit more secluded and an easier place to make lots of noise and have less staff to worry about blackmailing. He was getting more and more nervous as he drove, almost flooring it, hardly caring about being pulled over, driving a car registered in the Shaw’s name. About a mile out from the farmhouse, he saw a shape emerge from the darkness, off on the side of the road.

It was Credence’s car.

He let himself smile, just a little.

The car only worked for him, he’d said. Good. Grindelwald had been forced to drive, with Credence’s drugged state, and the car had stalled on him.

Bought a few more minutes as they’d probably had to wait for someone to pick them up. Good. 

Maybe there was still a chance.

_ ‘Don’t give in Credence, don’t scream for him.’ _

He thought to himself, before pulling over the luxury car, about a quarter of a mile from the line of the fence, not wishing to draw undue attention to himself there. He took the compact automatic pistol with a silencer, and the regular glock which reminded him of his old police issued gun. But first, he’d need his knife again. Sneaking up on guards in fresh snow wasn’t very easy, but it was better than the alternative, getting plugged before he’d even laid eyes on the boy. The first two went down without a sound, but the third one caught him as he stepped on a branch, hidden under a blanket of white.

“Fuck.”

Well, he shot the guy with the silenced pistol, and it was like a whisper. Not bad.

Until the fourth guard snuck up on him, and his shoulder felt like it was on fire. No mercy for that one, he got three bullets promptly in his gut.

“Fuck you too.”

No point playing it quiet now, surely that one gunshot, unmasked, had been like a train horn in the darkness of night, and Grindelwald had better be shaking in his boots with fear.

Two people could play the game of returning from the dead, it seemed.

The barn door was ajar, and he didn’t even bother kicking it open, his left shoulder was killing him, not literally, not yet, but it was dripping blood onto the snow, a splatter of crimson that was blinding against so much white.

“You son of a bitch. You’re interrupting my party.”

Grindelwald sounded furious. Good. That meant Credence hadn’t been cooperating.

He still winced at the sight of him.

With his pale limbs sprawled out, slim arms tied above his head, long legs held apart and fastened on a fucking cross, with red slashes on his back, he was trembling, but silent, and he turned to see Percy stumble in, and something like a smile threatened to break over his frightened but still alert face.

“I’m here, baby. It’s okay.”

The endearments were more to piss off Grindelwald than anything, but he saw a fraction of a nod from Credence, and it was enough.

The blond was clutching a black length of leather, his own makeshift whip, he tried to knock Percy’s gun away, but was a hint too slow.

He fired off a shot at Grindelwald’s wrist, and caught the edge of the whip handle, forcing him to drop it with a hissed curse.

There was a long and jagged knife in his other hand, and Percy almost wanted to laugh at his stupidity.

“Knife to a gunfight? You never learned anything in those years of playing at being a man.”

“Oh no, it’s not for you. It’s for him. You take one more step, he loses his guts.”

Percy felt his blood run cold, as Grindelwald pressed the tip into Credence’s side, just below his ribs. One wrong move, and he’d be dead.

“Okay.”

“Put the guns down cowboy.”

“Okay.”

He dropped them both instantly, and held his hands up, even though it hurt like a motherfucker, thanks to the bullet lodged in his shoulder. Blood dripped out of the wound, soaking into his shirt steadily as he laced his fingers together behind his head, and pivoted slowly, showing Grindelwald he had no other weapons on him.

Well, besides the knife tucked into his boot, still wet with a guard’s blood.

“You’re pathetic. You can’t even mount a proper rescue.”

Percy quirked a brow,

“You’re right. You won. Again. Good job.”

“Shut up. You get to watch. Sit down over there, go on.”

“What did your people give him?”

“Just a bit of a cocktail to keep him relaxed. No point fighting the inevitable. I was always going to fuck him, one way or another. Now he’ll just be able to take my cock without crying. Wanna see?”

Percy fisted his hands, digging his nails into his palms to keep from lunging forward, as Grindelwald flipped the knife around, and smacked the handle of it against Credence’s bare backside, the sound echoing around the barn.

He looked away, trying to calculate just how he could find a way to either disarm Grindelwald or get close enough to slash one of Credence’s bindings.

A sharp cry escaped the boy, and Percy turned back to see the blond pressing the handle of the knife between Credence’s ass cheeks which were flushed pink, and he realized it was being forced inside him.

“Stop.”

“No. Make me.”

Grindelwald drew it back out with an obscene sound, and then held the knife properly in his hand, before seeming to decide something.

“I think I’ll kill you first. Then your pretty boy can watch the life leave you before I fuck him.”

Percy dropped his hands, and then groaned, as his shoulder gave a throb, and he fell to his knees, with Grindelwald only a few feet away.

“Look at you, you’ve already got one foot in the grave, thanks to my men. Wonder how long you’ll last, if I cut right between your lungs.”

Percy shook his head, shifting his uninjured hand past his leg, slipping inside his shoe, and snagging his pocket knife, just as Grindelwald reached him, a rough hand yanking his head back with a fistful of his hair in those grubby fingers.

Ever the dramatic, he dragged the dull edge of the blade against Percy’s cheek, as he locked his mismatched eyes on his own,

“Say goodbye to your sweetie.”

“No! Don’t hurt him!” Credence’s voice was slurred from the drugs, sounding like he’d had too much to drink, but it was quite emphatic, and it made Percy’s vision clear, even as his left arm ached from having his whole body weight on it.

“Don’t worry baby, a sucker never grows up.”

He smiled up at Grindelwald, and stabbed him right in the gut, watching as his gaunt face twitched in surprise, before he staggered back, looking down at himself, and the blade embedded in his stomach.

“You bastard.”

“Nope, that’s you Gellert. Good riddance.”

He walked over to retrieve one of the guns, not caring which it was, turned to Credence,

“Don’t watch this baby, hide your eyes.” Once he was assured the boy had looked away, he emptied the entire clip into the blond’s chest.

He tossed the gun away with a clatter that echoed around the barn, and swiftly spat on the mangled corpse,

“Come back from that.”

* * *

 

 

Credence didn’t stop shaking until Mister Graves had helped him down from the wooden planks he’d been strapped to, and tugged his bloody shirt over him, hugged him close, and kissed his cheek, telling him how proud he was, how brave he’d been.

He still felt the drugs in his body, weakening his reaction time and making him move slowly, but Mister Graves needed his help, needed him to be strong, so he walked, and walked until he thought his feet might fall off, but his car was right there.

“You’re hurt.”

“I know. We need to get to Marv’s. Do you know if Grindelwald’s men left for his place yet?”

“I don’t think so… I heard them talking, they said they were going to go tomorrow. Give him time to worry about me…”

“Okay that’s good.”

He fumbled for the trunk latch, and eventually Mister Graves brushed his hand away, and flicked it open like it was nothing with his good arm.

Once he pulled his leather coat on, he started to feel a bit better, and he turned to find Mister Graves leaning against the side of the car, looking extremely pale.

“Get in the back. I’ll drive.”

“Credence… if I don’t make it, I need you to know I’m sorry and I-”

“Stop that. Get in.”

Credence shook his head, and the cold air helped him focus, along with the knowledge that Mister Graves’ life was in his hands.

He didn’t mind speed limits and even ran a few stop signs, but all that mattered was when he screeched to a halt outside Marv’s house, the inside lights came on, and the man himself emerged a moment later, gun in hand and worry on his face.

“Credence! Where the fuck have you been?” His eyes widened as he took in the sight of him. “Whose blood is that?”

Credence choked on his words, whether from his emotions overwhelming him or the lingering drugs, he didn’t know, but tears stung his eyes and he stumbled around to the back door,

“It’s Graves’ blood... Mister Graves? We’re here.”

“Fuck, kid, _ where  _ did you run into him?”

Too much to explain, there was just  _ too _ much to say, and not enough time. Mister Graves was dying, couldn’t Marv see?

“Yeah I see. But Percy’s been through worse. Don’t worry. He’s out like a light. Get me the big bottle of whiskey from under the sink.”

Credence blinked, and realized they were all inside, in the kitchen, and Mister Graves was lying on the table, his bloody arm under Marv’s massive but capable hands.

He couldn’t watch as Marv used a blade to dig out the bullet, and then cleaned the wound again, before stitching up the hole in the man’s arm with a couple precise moves.

“Pass me the gauze kid. And the pads. Yep. great.”

“What’s the whiskey for then?”

“Me. And him, when he wakes up.”

Marv lifted a hand to wipe the back of it against his forehead, and finally focused on Credence, frowning at his attire.

“You’re getting blood all over my nice coat I gave you. Go take a shower and leave that in the laundry room.”

“But-”

“Don’t argue with me. Go on.”

“Marv! I’m naked underneath it.”

The face the man made was almost comical, if he’d been anything but worried sick about Mister Graves, he’d have burst out into giggles. As it was, he almost laughed hysterically, until Marv was grabbing his shoulder, forcing him to look at his concerned stare.

“Did  _ he _ hurt you?”

Credence shook his head so hard it made his vision blur,

“No! No, he  _ saved _ me. It was Grindelwald.”

Marv’s eyes widened,

“Holy shit. That bastard lived?”

Credence shook his head again,

“Not anymore. He’s dead now. Mister Graves killed him for good.”

Marv whistled low and long, turning to look at the unconscious man.

“I wish I could say I’m surprised… but I guess, when it comes to you kid, he’s pretty much a lost cause, isn’t he?”

Credence blinked, and came back to focus on the fact Marv was squeezing his shoulder, nudging him out of the kitchen, towards the bathroom.

“Go shower, clean up, get dressed. He won’t be up for an hour at least.”

Credence nodded finally, and walked as slow as possible, turning back to sneak glances at Mister Graves, hoping Marv was right. He wanted to be there when the man woke up.

 

The shower seemed to cleanse him like it never had before, and Credence emerged with scrubbed pink skin, his back smarting slightly from the cuts that Grindewald’s whip had risen. But he wasn’t hurt as bad as he might have been, if the man had used the knife first like he’d threatened originally. Credence shivered, and finished toweling off, before padding over to his bedroom, and pulling on the first pair of pants he saw, navy sweats, and foregoing a shirt, so that Marv could doctor up his back.

“The fuck is this?”

Credence sighed, and waved a hand in Mister Graves’ general direction.

“He couldn’t stop it from happening. He got there as fast as he could.”

“Where the fuck were you?”

“The Shaw family farm.”

Marv almost dropped the bottle of whiskey he was drinking from, and  _ did _ drop the tube of salve he’d been about to dab onto Credence’s lower back.

“The fuck kinda bullshit did Percy drag you into tonight?”

“Nothing. It was all Grindelwald. He’s been stalking us for years. Since we left. He said he was going to send people after you. We have to leave. Soon. All of us.”

Marv frowned,

“What do you mean? Just, pack up and hit the road?”

Credence nodded.

Marv dragged his free hand down his face, and looked over at Mister Graves, before shrugging,

“Okay. Do you think Queenie would come too? I mean…”

He broke off, looking unusually pink.

Credence blinked,

“Are you two…?”

Marv took another long drink of the liquor, before wincing, and nodding.

“If you think she’ll drop everything and follow you anywhere, then yeah. Don’t hesitate.”

Credence was looking at Mister Graves as he spoke, and the warm touch of Marv’s hand on his skin, applying the medicine brought him back, out of the visions of warm beaches and soft smiles.

Credence wanted to leave the country, and go somewhere beautiful with him. He never wanted to look back at Basin county.

“Okay. I’ll pick her up. Where do you want to meet?”

“San francisco. I have a contact there.”

Credence and Marv both looked over to find Mister Graves sitting up slowly, leaning on an elbow and cocking a brow at them both.

“Well aren’t you full of fucking surprises, Percy.”

Credence almost smacked Marv for his rudeness, but he realized it didn’t matter, because his adopted uncle was striding forward, pulling Mister Graves into a tight embrace, mindful of his wounded arm.

“You asshole. Been taking good care of my boy here?”

“You know it. Look at him. They don’t make them like that anywhere else.”

Credence felt his cheeks grow hot as the man did indeed stare, and though he was used to dozens of strangers ogling him in less, it was entirely different when it was his lifelong hero.

“So who am I going to be looking for?”

Marv pressed, and Mister Graves groaned as he shifted his arm, wincing,

“Picquery. She’s working as a lawyer. Well on her way to becoming a decent human being in government. Unlike here.”

“Your ex? You’re joking.”

Credence felt a little frisson of jealousy spark to life at the revelation, but Mister Graves didn’t seem flustered.

“We’re still friendly. Kind of. She’s living with her girlfriend. She’ll be able to host us, or you for a week or so, while you get organized.”

“You’re sure?”

He nodded, and Credence inched closer, hoping to be noticed enough for a hug, or maybe to be able to sneak a kiss.

Marv seemed to sense the need for privacy, so he coughed, held up the bottle and mumbled something about packing.

Mister Graves turned to smile with full wattage at Credence, almost making his knees go weak, and held out his good arm, beckoning him close.

“My perfect miracle. I think that some thanks is in order.”

“We’re not exactly even yet.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll need your help again.”

Credence nudged in, rubbing his cheek against the man’s chin, before he tilted his head just right to brush their lips together, and he let his eyes fall shut, as Mister Graves pressed in closer, kissing him with a gentle but slowly building intensity, and his good hand  was braced on the back of his neck, fingers tangled in his still damp hair.

He broke away before it could become too heated, to lean his forehead against Credence’s,

“You know what I was going to say right? I love you. Very much.”

His smile almost hurt with the speed in which it spread across his face.

“Glad to know it Mister Graves.”

* * *

The sun was blinding, but his lover's beauty was more so, and normally Percy wouldn’t have allowed himself to be so sappy and ridiculously poetic about another human being, but then again, this was  _ Credence. _

He was the one good thing that had managed to enter his life twice, and requested, nay,  _ demanded _ to stay, no matter how hard the universe seemed to try to pull them apart. There, standing at the edge of the balcony, holding a glass half full of a mojito in hand, he was a vision. 

“How did you sleep?”

Credence was asking him, as he walked closer, still unable to look away from the lean lines of his body, almost feeling his hands itch with the ever present need to touch him, to reassure himself he was still real, still there.

“Not too well. I think it was a bad idea letting Marv and Queenie be our neighbors. The walls in the bedroom seem really thin.”

He was teasing of course, but Credence still blushed, and dropped his gaze to the mint leaf floating in his glass among the melting ice,

“Oh.”

Percy came up behind him to wrap his arms around his slender form, and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck,

“No matter. We can make them lose a few hours of sleep later tonight. Fuck naps right?”

The sun was setting now, splashing the horizon with oranges and reds, and almost blinding as it glittered on the crashing surf.

“I guess. That just seems kind of mean. They didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Sure.”

Percy slid his hands down to pull Credence flush against his front, and he relished the way it made his breath catch, feeling how aroused he was for him.

“Do you want to go work on something for dinner, or skip ahead to dessert?”

It might have been cheating, a little, to nibble on the boy’s ear while asking the question, but the answering moan and shudder of Credence’s slender body against him was enough of a sign to tell him that yes, he was entirely allowed.

“Please...”

“Please what baby?”

“Daddy… I need you inside me.”

“God, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that.”

It might have given him pause before, especially since it was technically pointing out the severe gap in their ages, but damn, it was incredibly sexy hearing that word drop from Credence’s plush lips, preferably right before they wrapped around his cock.

They stopped by the kitchen for a moment to allow Credence to set his drink down safely, before Percy continued walking to their bedroom, climbing back into the mussed sheets and blankets, palming himself through his boxers, watching as his boy shucked off his shirt and stripped out of his own sleep pants.

On weekends, they never put much more clothing on than that, or swim shorts if they decided to hit the beach, or go into town.

The sheer amount of sex they had done their first month in Hawaii was about equal to all the sex Percy had experienced in his life up until that point.

Now, it was almost second nature to wake up with Credence grinding into him, or already halfway to putting him in his mouth.

“Daddy, do you want some help?”

Credence practically purred at him, crawling atop him on the bed, and Percy chuckled,

“Gee I don’t know baby, I don’t think these are gonna take themselves off, do you?”

Credence rutted his hips against one of Percy’s thighs, leaving a trail of slick precome on his skin, and then leaned down to kiss him, before murmuring,

“You could keep them on, just let me ride you…”

Clever long fingered hands were already easing his cock out of the front slit of the shorts, and Percy was highly tempted to let him do just that, quickly reaching down to find that his boy’s hole was slippery and easily opening for a finger to press inside.

“It’ll ruin them. You, dear one, will have to do an extra load of laundry at this rate.”

Credence only pouted for a moment before then shifting his hands to thumb under the waistband, and properly help Percy out of his boxers.

“Okay fine. You win this time.”

“Everytime baby.”   
“Daddy, don’t be overconfident.”

He would have rolled his eyes, but that was  _ Credence and Marv’s _ bad habit, never his.

However when Percy felt Credence lift up and away, just to sink back down on his cock, slow and agonizingly tight and hot, all rational and indeed, critical thinking failed him.

How long had it been since they’d done this? 

Since after breakfast?

Credence had moaned so prettily bent over the kitchen counter earlier, clad in just his yellow and pink frilly apron. God, he wished he’d snapped some photos with his cellphone for when he got stuck at work.

He put his hands on Credence’s hips, a bit softer and tanner than when they’d first settled on the island, thanks to more sweets and the occasional extra beer.

“Come on baby, ride Daddy’s cock like you mean it.”

“Shh-hh, I can’t concentrate when you talk like that.”

“What? I thought you liked dirty talk.”

“Yeah but you suck at it.”

Percy gaped up at him, mildly offended and thus barely remembered to reach over and stroke Credence’s cock, as it was dripping onto his stomach, as he felt him clench around his own cock.

“That’s not very nice.”

“What are you gonna do Daddy? Spank me?”

He was highly tempted. He could just slip a free hand around the trembling thigh nearest him, and slap Credence’s pert bottom.

“Oh fuck. Fuck me.”

“I’m trying.”

Credence giggled, somewhat breathless, and moved faster, fucking himself into Percy’s fist, and pushing him very close to his own orgasm.

“Come on baby. Make me proud.”

He thumbed over the slit, and felt as Credence shuddered atop him, before spilling his release onto his chest, moaning low and long, milking Percy’s cock through his climax.

“Fuck yes. Perfect.”

Credence braced both hands on the headboard, before his knees seemed to give out, and he barely lifted up off of Percy’s cock so that he collapsed over his chest, not quite avoiding his own mess.

“Mmm. Do you think they heard us?”

“Most definitely.”

“Percy!”

He received a mild smack on his bicep, luckily the one that had since healed, almost three years back, and then felt Credence shaking with laughter.

“What?”

“You’re far too immature to be anyone’s daddy, you know that?”

“Mm-h-mm. Maybe you just keep me young.”

“I think that’s the sex.”

Now Percy was the one with amusement and fondness tickling the back of his throat,

“Alright, fair enough. I’ll take care of dinner for you baby. Just give me a minute to catch my breath.”

“Okay.”

Credence snuggled closer, tucking his head against his chest, right above his heart, and Percy couldn’t help smiling.

They were a perfect fit.

* * *

 

**END**


End file.
